


Acceptance

by hazeltea (madlovescience)



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-20
Updated: 2010-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlovescience/pseuds/hazeltea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for 20 Years of Dwarf challenge.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 20 Years of Dwarf challenge.

"Proves my point, though, don't it?" Lister smirked, as he leaned irritatingly close so that Rimmer could see every tooth in that inane grin. It was about the only thing he could see clearly through his hologram simulated hangover. He wasn't sure how long he'd been awake, but it was beginning to feel like hours, hours on end in which Lister did not shut up for even a single bloody moment. Rimmer had thought he knew what it felt like to be hung over, but it had never been quite as bad as this. His abdomen ached from the dry heaves, his stomach was as sour as a crate of unripe lemons, and his head pounded painfully, as though his brain had shriveled and dehydrated from the excess alcohol and was now ricocheting around his skull. This was why he didn't drink on a regular basis, certainly not to this extent; and any sane person would see the sense in a bit of restraint, but not Lister. Perish the thought.

"I'm not going to let you bait me, Lister, not again." He hissed through gritted teeth. He resisted the urge to smack Lister's obnoxious face back with the palm of his hand, remembering just in time that his soft light form would pass through the other, and make him seem even more foolish. The last thing he wanted to do was provide Lister with more fodder for laughs, as it was, he wasn't going to live this day down for quite awhile.

"You should have listened to me from the start. You can't drink me under the table, Rimmer." He chuckled. "So it looks like you're gonna have to give in and admit that I'm the tougher man." It was hard to tell if Lister was more pleased with his drinking prowess, or the misery the bet had caused his bunkmate. "Keep them comin', I'll never go down."

Rimmer's face burned. "Since when has the measure of manhood been how many keg stands you can do in an hour?" he spat, crossing his arms. "You've never even been through basic training. You probably couldn't even bench press the weight of what you drank last night. I never should have let you talk me into this in the first place, it's juvenile rubbish." Painfully, he forced himself into a sitting position and scowled, his back to Lister.

"I've been in more brawls than you have." Lister smirked, taking the extra space on the medi bay cot as an excuse to sit beside him. "Probably more dangerous than what you lot did in cadet school because there's no rules in a pub, you know? Anything can be a weapon... a bottle, a chair, even your own clothes if you're wasted enough. I saw someone take his teeth out to fight with once, brought them down on the guy like brass knuckles." Rimmer's grimace of distaste was wasted on Lister, who seemed rather impressed at the memory.

"There's hardly any nobility in bludgeoning a man half senseless with an empty beer bottle, or worse." Rimmer scoffed, raking back his unruly curls in irritation. Squaring his shoulers and gaining as much composure as he could, he attempted to stare Lister down in contempt.

"About as much nobility as there is in recruiting the skutters to fiddle with the controls in the hologram projection suite to alter how much the simulated drinks affect you, yeah?" Lister's smirk became a full throated laugh, the loudness of it making Rimmer's head pound. "See, I thought there was something wrong when you went down after only one pint. That's unexpected, even for you. Turns out they did the opposite and intensified the effect."

Rimmer paled, the mortifying feeling of being found out turning to hot anger a moment later. He hissed, standing up abruptly and advancing on the two skutters that were resting nearby.

"You did this on purpose, you scheming, useless piles of scrap!" He accused. The skutters rolled back, clicking their maws nervously as though he actually possessed a physical presence that could do them harm. It made him feel better, if only for a moment, although nothing could diffuse the acute embarrassment he was feeling right at that moment.

"Rimmer…" Lister began, the mocking in his voice slowly turning to an amused sympathy, "It was just a game, man. Drinking with yer mates is supposed to be fun, not some exam you gotta cram or cheat for." Honestly, Lister thought, only Rimmer. He'd never met anyone so hung up on other people's perceptions that had failed to become well liked, even in a shallow way, but to be fair, those sort of people didn't put the sort of manic scheming that Rimmer was capable of into their efforts.

Lister was right, and the fact that he was right was, at the moment, just about the most unfair thing Rimmer could think of. He was sure that it would rank rather high in the list of his life's little injustices even after he had become sober, which he could be right now, if Holly would allow it, since he wasn't really properly drunk in the first place, was he? It was all an illusion. No use in complaining, though, Holly would be uncooperative and Lister would probably come up with some smeg about how good he had it, being able to make himself tipsy at the push of a button. If Lister were the hologram, he'd be altering his states of consciousness constantly, no doubt! What right did he have to judge him this one time? He bristled as Lister approached him, close enough so that the edges of his soft light form fizzled with the faintest currents of static electricity.

"I mean, why do you think you've got to impress me?" Lister asked, flashing him a curious, pleading look. Rimmer looked down at his feet, hazily recalling the events of the last twenty four hours, unable to form anything close to an answer. Why? Why, indeed.


End file.
